


Best Idea Ever

by NephilimEQ



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Supernatural Writing Challenge August 2015, Writing Prompt, water bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NephilimEQ/pseuds/NephilimEQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants a water bed. Things get...interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Idea Ever

**Author's Note:**

> This was a piece I wrote in response to my writing challenge for the month of August for the Supernatural Writing Challenge on Tumblr. My prompt was the word "water bed"...so, I had some fun with it. ;)

[Supernatural Writing Challenge](http://spnwritingchallenge.tumblr.com/)  
prompt: water bed  
[nephilimeq](http://nephilimeq.tumblr.com/) vs [mishasmacarenas](http://flurryangels.co.vu/)  
Pairings: Destiel  
Word Count: 4,534  
Tags: destiel, waterbed, fluff  
AN: Hilariously enough, mishasmacarenas and I came up with very similar ideas for our stories without ever consulting each other. I find that hilarious, but also makes me think that great minds think alike!

Best Idea Ever

Dean sighed as he got his second cup of coffee of the morning, glancing over his shoulder to look at Cas, who was sitting at the table, his head bent over a local newspaper. Dean shook his head at the sight, chuckling under his breath.  Ever since Cas had lost his grace and started staying with them at the bunker, he had been looking at the classifieds to find furniture for his room, even though it already had a bed and a chest of drawers.  He’d told Dean that he wanted to make it his own, the way Sam and Dean had…and that meant buying his own bed.

He turned around and leaned against the counter, taking a long sip from the mug, continuing to stare over the edge of it at the blue eyed angel, who looked all too serious for perusing the classifieds.

“So,” Dean said, stepping towards the table and grabbing a muffin from the counter as he did.  “Find anything?”

Castiel looked up, his brow still furrowed and then said, his tone just as serious as his face, “Dean…what’s a water bed?”

Unable to keep from laughing, he let it out and then pulled up a chair across from him and shook his head as he managed to get out, “It’s a  _very_  bad idea from the seventies, and not anything you should be looking into…trust me on this, Cas.  You don’t want one.”

“Want what?”

Great.  Sam had just walked in, and Dean was fairly certain that he would take the angel’s side.  He had been doing that a lot recently, as if he was purposely trying to wind Dean up, but he didn’t know why his brother felt the need to.  He stayed quiet, but to no avail, as Castiel said, “A water bed.”

Sam stopped mid-reach for his own coffee mug and a small smile of amusement appeared on the corner of his mouth.

“A water bed? Really…”  Oh, no.  No, no, no. That was the tone that meant that Sam was about to take Castiel’s side and make Dean’s life hell.  “You, know, they say that they’re very soothing, good for your back, and that they help you fall asleep more quickly.”

Dean shook his head and said, “Dude, seriously?  You’re going to do this now?  Cas doesn’t  _need_  a freakin’  _water_  bed!”

His brother just shrugged as he grabbed his mug, filling it with coffee and creamer and then proceeded to try and hide his smirk by taking a sip from it, but Dean wasn’t fooled. Why was his brother determined to rile him up by encouraging Cas?  What on earth was in it for him?  Besides the obvious humour at Dean’s expense.

Realizing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere, he gave up on the argument and went back to his coffee as he snagged the sports section from the angel’s hands.  Cas gave him a confused look, but he brushed it off and to the side, pretending to read the page in front of him.  Recently, Sam had been not so subtly leaving him and Castiel alone for long intervals, as though he was expecting something to happen because of it…but what he was expecting to happen, Dean didn’t know.

Forcing himself to re-read the sentence one last time, he proceeded to read the rest of the page, ignoring what had just happened.  It wasn’t important anyway.  It was just a waterbed.

* * *

“Why are we doing this?” Dean grumbled, as he drove out to the address that Cas had handed him.  He had found the man online who was willing to sell them a waterbed for under two hundred, and Cas had insisted that they take it.  Since they couldn’t simply zap there instantaneously any more, they were driving in a rented Ford F150…with the Winchester growling under his breath the whole way, his classic rock not even keeping him placated.

“I want a water bed, Dean.”

He rolled his eyes as he took the left turn and grunted.  He could feel Cas staring at the side of his head.  

“Yeah, fine. Whatever,” he gruffly replied, paying attention to the signs, not wanting to miss their next turn.  The instant he made the turn, the house came into view, along with the gentleman selling them the bed, standing outside with the parts already ready to put in the back of the truck.

As soon as they pulled up, Dean hopped out and helped the man load it into the truck after handing him a wad of cash.  Castiel watched from the truck.  He still had his inhuman strength for some inexplicable reason and they couldn’t risk it being seen and questioned.  This instant it was loaded, he hopped back up into the cab and turned the radio back on. He then said to Cas, “You’re gonna unload it when we get back, Cas.  That damn headboard was freakin’ heavy. Solid oak, man,” rubbing his neck as he did so.

He was getting old if moving a headboard and footboard was almost too much for him.  Letting out a frustrated sigh, he added, “Looks like I’ll be takin’ some of Sammy’s vicodin tonight.”

Cas said nothing, instead glancing over his shoulder the whole way back to the bunker, as though trying to reassure himself that it was still there.

Dean just shook his head, and, as soon as they had arrived, he did exactly as he said he would and walked straight into the bunker, leaving Cas behind to bring it in himself.  After all the effort he’d gone through, he was not going to strain himself any more.

He called out after Sam, but after getting no response, he assumed that he was either head-deep in books and research, or he was simply out for another run.  His little brother had been going on a lot of runs recently, spending hours away from the bunker, and Dean  _had_  assumed that it was because he was still dealing with some issues from previous demons, such as the blood drinking or being in the cage with Lucifer and Michael…or the lack of a soul.  But then he’d started to catch the smirks and the looks that he kept on casting in his and Castiel’s direction, and he had the distinct impression that it was about something else entirely.

He went into the kitchen, thinking about cooking up a solid meal for the three of them for dinner, but just as he started preparations for a meaty lasagna, he heard a loud thud. Shaking his head, thinking the worst as he walked to the front door, he was taken aback when he saw Cas dropping the headboard from the top of the stairs down to the bunker floor.

“Dude!  Are you trying to break it?”

Castiel shook his head.

“No, Dean. The pieces are too awkward to carry down the stairs, so I am expediting the process. As you said, it is solid oak.  It will be fine.”  He then proceeded to drop down the slats and the two backboards, which hit against the other pieces of wood with a resounding  _thwang._

The hunter shook his head, not quite believing what he was seeing, but then walked out, muttering, “Fine. You bought it, you can break it. See if I care…”

* * *

 

Two hours later, he heard the angel yelling his name from the direction of his room.  Rolling his eyes, he checked on the lasagna and then strolled towards Cas’s room, wondering how successful the angel had been in putting it together.  He wouldn’t be surprised if he found the room half-flooded, actually.  At that thought, he grinned, and then quickened his pace when he heard Cas yell his name a second time, this time sounding panicked.

Dean smirked at hearing the angel’s tone.  The odds of the room being flooded had just shot up.

However, as soon as he walked in…he lost it.  Nearly losing his breath, he bent over at the waist, laughing, unable to stop, at the sight that was in front of him.  Cas was in the middle of the king sized bed, helplessly trying to get to the edge, rolling every which way, his eyes looking just as panicked as his voice had sounded.

“Dean!” he said a third time, sounding almost angry at him, and that only caused him to laugh harder.

After a moment he managed to gasp out, “Hey, Cas…uh, you…you need a hand there, man?”

The angel gave him a hard stare, which had little to no effect on the hunter considering his splayed and helpless position on the bed.  Well, the look didn’t have much effect, but his position…that was another story.  His reaction to seeing the once mighty angel laying on the bed with his legs opened all too invitingly was like a bucket of ice water on his head, and he quickly stood up straight and walked over and offered his hand.

“C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Taking his hand, he pulled…and instead pulled Dean right onto the bed with him, causing their legs to tangle, and, eventually, they ended up with Cas on top and Dean on the bottom, Cas trying to unsteadily hold his weight above him using his hands, which kept on giving into the water-filled mattress beneath them, making balance virtually impossible, as well as distance, their hips brushing up against each other with every slip of his fingers.

“I am sorry, Dean,” he said, his breath brushing right past Dean’s ear, lips almost touching it.  “I did not mean to put you into the same position.”

Shrugging it off, while at the same time trying to stave off his body’s reaction to having a warm, very attractive, very firm… _no, don’t go there_.  He cut off the train of thought and instead thought of icy cold showers with tubs full of rats.  Yep.  Worked like a charm.

“It’s okay, Cas, just…” He motioned with his hand.  “Roll that way, could you?”  The angel did as he asked, and he moved to the side, and Dean, having been in a couple of waterbeds in his life, easily got over to the edge and slid out with little effort.  He then put his hand out once more and, arching an eyebrow, said, “Want to try that a second time?”

Looking embarrassed, Castiel nodded, and this time they were successful.

Cas looked back at the bed and then at Dean and said, “Maybe you were right.  Maybe a waterbed was not a good idea.”

Seeing the angel’s crestfallen look, he shook his head and replied with, “Hey, don’t worry about it. Besides, I, uh, kinda liked it.” Confused blue eyes met his and he quickly covered by saying, “Reminds me of a boat ride I went on once with my dad when I was a kid.  Mind you,” he added, “It was to a remote, haunted island, infested with ghosts…but the boat ride was nice.”

Cas simply nodded and then said, “Do I smell burning tomatoes?”

Dean groaned.

“Dammit!”

He stormed back to the kitchen, Castiel trailing behind him, and then when he saw the small amount of smoke coming from the oven, he cursed a second time.  He then proceeded to nearly burn his fingers as he pulled the ruined lasagna from the oven and then kick the door shut, cursing one more time for good measure.

Cas stared and then said, “I am sorry I ruined dinner, Dean.  I did not mean to keep you from it.”

Dean, seeing the almost injured look on the angel’s face, just shook his head and said, “It’s alright, Cas.  I’ll just call Sam and have him pick us up some Chinese on the way back from his run.”

Cas simply nodded, and Dean, feeling more than a little guilty for being so short with him before, added, in a half-hearted tone, “I could make some toasted PB&J, instead? With grape jelly?”  At seeing the angel’s eyes light up, he felt a warm sensation in his chest, but he brushed it off and instead moved to the cupboard to grab the bread.  Grabbing all of the ingredients, he immediately went to work, his hands going on automatic, having made the same sandwich for him several times before.

Cas had admitted to him that he had weakness for the sandwich quite some time ago, and so he’d showed the angel how much better they tasted when he, Dean Winchester, toasted them and made them in the special way that he made all of his sandwiches.

A few minutes later, Cas sat at the island while Dean stood across from him, both of them enjoying their food.  They remained silent throughout, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence.  Heck, it was probably one of the most comfortable silences that Dean had ever experienced, to be honest.  Being this way with Cas was…nice.  Hell, it was more than nice.  There were so many things that other friends needed to say or do to fill in the gaps, but between them, not a lot ever needed to be said, and it was, well…nice.

Just as Dean decided to break the silence, it was broken for them, by a slamming door, and a familiar voice yelling, “Hey, Dean!  Hey, Cas. What’s for dinner…?”  Sam’s voice trailed as he saw the two of them stopping mid chew to stare at him, where he was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, covered in sweat…and mud. From head to toe.

Swallowing his bite, Dean said, “What the hell happened to  _you?_ ”

Sam shrugged.

“Went for a run and on the way back, a driver of a semi decided to hit the biggest pothole it could find.  His aim was accurate.”

Dean nodded, started to chuckle, and then said, “Dude, it’s gonna take more than one shower to get _that_  out.”  Sam shot him a dirty look and replied with, “Yes, I am aware of that, Dean.” Motioning at the sandwiches in their hands he added, “Now, is there any real food or am I stuck foraging for myself tonight?”

Still grinning like an idiot, he said, “Sorry, man.  Looks like you’re gonna have to forage away.”

Letting out an aggrieved sigh, Sam turned, but heard Dean as he leaned in and said to Cas, “This is even funnier than you in the waterbed earlier.  Man, I thought nothing could top that,” and at hearing that, Sam smirked, making the decision to take as long as he wanted in the shower.  They would need the alone time.

* * *

 

Later that night, Dean walked back to his room, changing into his sweats and t-shirt.  He  _still_  wasn’t used to that.  Not having to sleep in his clothes every night was actually a strange feeling, and he almost didn’t want that strange feeling to go away for fear of having something inexplicable happen to the bunker.  He couldn’t let himself get too attached.  Not like Cas, anyway, who had insisted on buying the damn water bed.

He laid down on his own spring mattress and let out a low grunt of pain at the lack of give against his strained back.  This thing certainly wasn’t helping him.

Mumbling under his breath, he dragged himself off the bed and headed for the kitchen, remembering that he hadn’t snagged a vicodin before going to bed.  After throwing it back with a sip of tepid water, he headed back to his room…and had the strange urge to check on Cas.

Reassuring himself that it wasn’t creepy that he was checking up on him while he was sleeping, he carefully opened the door and peered inside…and couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of him.

Cas was draped over on his right side, wearing the pajamas that Dean had given him from his own wardrobe, a gray t-shirt and dark blue plaid sleep pants.  The pants were about a size too large, so they were slung low on the angel’s hips, revealing sharp hipbones that had the hunter’s mind starting to wander. Quickly, he shut off that line of thinking, and looked back up towards Cas’ face.  He seemed completely relaxed except for a faint furrow in between his eyes, as though in sleep he was still plagued with worries.

Dean didn’t know how long he stood there, simply staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away.

Just as he finally found the nerve to turn and leave, a familiar voice said, “Where are you going, Dean?”

The hunter snapped his head back towards the bed and saw Cas wide awake, staring at him, not quite believing that the angel had faked being asleep so well.  Had he been awake the whole time?  Dean, silently mortified, just shook his head and said, “Sorry, Cas, I was just…checking up on you.  I’ll just, you know, go now,” but the angel shook his head and said, “You can stay, Dean. I could use the company, anyway. I seem to be unable to fall asleep.”

Curious at the strange tone in Castiel’s voice, he stepped closer to the bed, and then sat down on the edge of it, not trusting himself to be any closer than he already was.

“Uh…why can’t you sleep?”

Cas shook his head.

“I do not know.  I thought it was the bed, which is why I asked for a new one, but…the problem seems to still persist.  It is rather…vexing.”  Dean chuckled at the confused tone in the angel’s voice, and adjusted his position as he asked, “What about it is  _vexing_?”

Castiel sat up in the bed, the pants he was wearing slipping just a little bit further down his waist, revealing even more skin and Dean resolutely kept his eyes on the blue ones in front of him, knowing that ogling his friend was not the way to help him with his problem.  But, at the back of his mind, the image was put into his mental file of ‘Cas’s body’, that he kept under lock and key, putting the images together in the middle of the night in his mind, where no one could judge him for his fascination with the angel’s vessel.

In a voice a bit rougher than normal, Cas replied, “I have a feeling that there is something missing each time I go to sleep.  I…”  He absently reached a hand to the empty side of the bed, gently pressing his fingers into the water filled mattress.  “I cannot seem to place it, but I feel….”

His voice drifted, and Dean stared at him, looking at the confused look on his face, and then, in a flash of inspiration, he said, “Like you’re a boat that isn’t tied?”

Cas looked up at him, his eyes focused and then he nodded.

“Yes…that is a sufficient metaphor for the feeling.”  He pressed his fingers into the mattress a second time.  “It is a strange feeling.  Unsettling.”

Dean glanced at where the angel’s hand rested and something clicked inside his head.  He pulled back slightly at the realization, and the warning signal that was going off in his brain immediately told him that any proximity to the angel was a  _‘bad idea’_ , in all capital letters, and so he listened to it and stood up and headed for the door.

He winced as he reached for the door handle, the simple motion somehow triggering the subtle pain in his neck and back that he’d been trying to ignore the entire time. Castiel noticed the motion and said, “Dean, are you alright?”

“Yeah, Cas, just a sore back.  Nothing some drugs and sleep can’t fix.”

At his words, Cas suddenly spoke up, saying, “Perhaps this bed might help.  Sam  _did_  say that waterbeds are good for the back.”

Oh, god, that was tempting. But…being in the same bed as the angel? Oh, man.  Castiel getting that waterbed was the  _worst_  idea ever.  The urge to say no was absolutely overwhelming, but at the same time, Dean knew that the vicodin wouldn’t be much help if he went and slept on his old bedsprings, which were what had started his back problems in the  _first_  place.  Torn between wanting to run from the room and wanting to press Cas into the mattress, he chose a middle ground.

“Uh, yeah.  Sure,” he said, moving over to the bed and getting in on the other side.  “The bed’s big enough for two of us.”  He then turned on his left side and resolutely ignored the slight wave of the water filled mattress beneath him as Cas shifted to give Dean more room.

He could  _do_  this, goddammit.

The hunter closed his eyes and attempted to let the comfort of the bed and the sheets lull him to sleep…but instead found himself wide awake, faking measured even breathing so that Cas didn’t know that he was still up and alert, his entire body like a livewire of kinetic energy, ready to bolt at the slightest touch.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he knew that it hadn’t been long enough.  He was almost in pain from the strain and effort that he was putting into pretending that he was asleep.  His stomach was clenched to help him maintain balance so that he made as little movement as possible.  Unlike a memory foam, the waterbed would transfer any energy over to the sleeping angel, rousing him, and he wasn’t going to take that chance.

However, after an even longer amount of time, he felt his concentration slipping and his eyes slipping closed, as though lead weights had been applied to his eyelids…and he could no longer fight the exhaustion that was taking over his body.

* * *

 

Dean slowly woke up…and froze.

He was spooned up behind Cas, his thighs tucked firmly under the angel’s, Dean’s left arm thrown over Cas’ side.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of it without waking him up.  It was hard enough to extract oneself from such a situation and do the walk of shame with a _normal_  bed…but getting out of waterbed without causing a scene?  Yeah, now  _that_  was impossible.

Finally deciding that nothing could be done, he settled himself in for the long haul, realizing that if Cas woke up and thought that Dean was still asleep, then he would remove himself as quietly as he could without disturbing Dean, and the hunter was perfectly fine with faking sleep for a little while longer if it meant sparing him the humiliation that was sure to ensue if he made the first move.  He calmed his body and evened out his breath, letting himself settle a bit closer to Castiel, not really caring for the moment, though he was unable to fall back asleep.

A little while later, he felt the angel shift in his arms, and he waited for him to pull abruptly away at finding himself in such an awkward position with the hunter…but became confused when he felt warm fingers brushing over his own, in an almost reverent manner.

“Dean…”

At the sound of his name, he felt something inside of him shift.  Never before had he heard the angel say his name in quite that way.  He’d heard it yelled, and said in a myriad of tones, ranging from amused to pissed off to desperate…but never quite like this.

He wanted to respond, but he didn’t want to reveal himself just yet, so he waited a few moments longer.

Castiel’s hand continued to brush his, and then he felt a soft kiss being pressed to his fingers and he felt an odd sensation in his chest at the intimate gesture; a warmth that seemed to blossom from some unknown point and spread from where Cas’ lips had touched his hand until it was in his entire frame, tingling all the way down his whole body to his feet.

Unable to control it, he whispered back, “Cas,” and the angel turned suddenly in his arms so that their faces were mere inches apart.

“Dean,” he said a second time, with a slightly different inflection, and Dean smirked.

“You knew I was awake.”

It wasn’t a question, but Cas nodded anyway, unashamedly wrapping his right arm around Dean’s waist, drawing him closer to him, so that their mouths were now only centimeters apart.

“Yes.  I did.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, blue eyes meeting green, a silent conversation occurring between the two of them.  It involved raised eyebrows, a few pointed stares, a couple of mouth twitches, and several smirks…and that was all that was needed for them to come together, by mutual silent decision, and close the remaining distance separating them.

Lips touched and it was fireworks behind Dean’s eyes, and when Cas moved to shift himself over him, he chuckled when the angel nearly fell directly on top of him when his hands, once more, could not seem to find any traction on the undulating waterbed beneath them.  Pulling slightly back from the kiss, ignoring Dean’s sound of protest, he said, in a voice a tad bit gruffer than usual, “You were right, Dean.  This bed is very problematic.”

Dean just shook his head and pressed a quick kiss to the corner Castiel’s mouth and said, “Are you kidding?  This waterbed was the best idea ever.”

Cas looked confused, but then seemed to understand when Dean pressed his hips up into the angel’s with practically no effort on his part, the motion of the bed aiding him in his search for more pressure, and Cas then suddenly smirked.  He looked down at Dean and then returned the pressure, forcing a groan from Dean’s mouth.  Just as it was about to go further, the door swung open.

“Cas, have you seen…”

Sam stood there, frozen, his hand still on the doorknob, while Dean closed his eyes and tried not to look totally mortified.  After a beat, Castiel, without even thinking about what he was saying, said in his typical blunt manner, “Sam, I was hoping to have sexual congress with your brother. I would prefer it if you were not here.”

Letting out a cough, Dean heard his younger brother say under his breath, “Same here,” and then heard him step back into the hall and close the door behind him.

Just as Cas was leaning down to press another kiss to Dean’s lips, they heard a tap on the door and through the wood, they heard Sam say, “By the way, guys…congrats,” and they both flushed red at the younger Winchester’s words, and waited a few moments until they heard Sam’s steps disappear down the hallway, away from the room.

Cas looked down at him and shyly smiled in that adorable way of his when he was unsure of something.

“So…you like the bed?”

Dean smirked back at him, raising a suggestive eyebrow and said, “Best idea ever.”

This time, Cas smirked and said, “I am glad that you finally see my side, Dean,” and then proceeded to prove to Dean all the merits of having a waterbed.

* * *

**THE END!**


End file.
